


It all breaks down at the first rehearsal

by becka



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Tour Rehearsals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becka/pseuds/becka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on holiday in LA, Nick goes with Harry to 1D tour rehearsal. They can't keep their hands off each other. Set in May 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It all breaks down at the first rehearsal

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Lucy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/balefully) for reading this over repeatedly and responding to my whining. <3
> 
> Disclaimer: Never happened. No truth here.
> 
> Title from Placebo.

Nick doesn't often feel out of place. He's made a career of talking his way into places and befriending everyone there; it's how he spoke to Harry the first time. But he sticks out like a sore thumb at a One Direction tour rehearsal, the four of them pointing and talking over each other as they arrange what passes for choreography in their world. It's better when Ben arrives about an hour in because at least then it's two of them standing at the side of the room, watching the unfolding chaos. Nick tries not to stare at Harry, definitely doesn't want anyone else catching him staring at Harry. He focuses on Niall for a bit while he mimes epic guitar solos, but it's hard not to let his eyes drift, not to check if Harry's watching him too.

It feels new, is the thing. Harry had talked through some complicated metaphor about spring and flowers and rebirth on Friday night, and then kissed him on the mouth, which Nick understood better whilst still disoriented from the time difference. They'd gone to Harry's favourite places at the weekend, and then inevitably gone back to bed. Whatever they’d done and wherever they’d gone, it always ended in going back to bed. Nick’s never been this hungry for someone, this ravenously eager to touch them and taste them and make them come. But he gets a little bit hard every time Harry so much as looks him up and down, and his hands still tingle with the memory of cupping Harry’s hips between them.

“You and H are back on then?” says Ben, and Nick realises he’s been watching Harry adjust himself through his jeans pocket, the subtle guide of his hand on his dick. He doesn’t know what to do, reluctant to answer the question, no matter how friendly Ben is about it.

Nick dodges it with a bland smile, changing the subject. "Are they always like this? This..." He waves a hand towards Louis, who is currently clinging like a limpet to Liam's back, "chaotic?"

"You've seen my films, right?" says Ben. "Nature documentaries about these vicious little animals?"

"I always think it's exaggerated though. Anything without David Attenborough narrating seems a bit dodgy."

Ben laughs. "They're always like this. But they always come out alright." There's an unspoken worry there, the same thing Nick sees in Harry's eyes sometimes when he's left to think too long. They've never felt the lifespan of their band bearing down on them the way they do now, one man down. Harry hasn't wanted to talk about it, and the last thing Nick ever wants to do is force someone to talk about their feelings, so he's just cuddled him more than usual.

He nods and glances at Harry, who's absently plucking at the strings of Niall's guitar. Someone calls for a break a minute later, sounding exasperated. It's only been a couple of hours, but maybe he's new. Harry and Niall head straight for Ben as soon as they're free, but Harry reaches out to touch Nick's hand on his way past, an electric brush of fingertips against Nick's knuckles.

"Alright, Grim?" says Niall, when he's done exchanging pleasantries and pisstakes with Ben. "Got the choreography down?"

"I reckon I'll be alright on the leaping bits, but the climbing all over you lot looks tough."

Niall laughs. He was the last of them to arrive in LA, and he still looks a little drawn. "You hanging round long enough to see us on Cordo's show? It's gonna be a laugh."

Nick shakes his head. "I'll be back home doing the radio by then. The BBC is a cruel master."

Niall inclines his head toward Harry, who's telling Ben about their hiking trip yesterday in halting detail. "Glad you could come though. Nice for Haz to have someone out here."

"He has loads of someones out here," replies Nick.

"Not like you," says Niall, and Nick wants to grab him by the arm and force him to explain what he means. It's been so nice, waking up with Harry and going to sleep with Harry and fucking Harry in between, but it's still fragile and uncertain. Neither of them have talked about what happens when he goes home.

He looks at his phone to avoid Niall's knowing smile. "Where's the posh catering then? I'm starving."

"Hard work skulking in the corner," says Louis, coming over and slinging an arm around Niall's shoulder. "Must have burned a lot of calories."

"I skulked energetically," Nick tells him. He has no idea anymore how much of Louis's venom is real, and he doesn’t care much as long as it’s not on the internet.

Harry appears at his elbow then, nudging into his side and making Nick want to put a hand on him, stake a claim somehow. “I think they’ll be setting up lunch soon,” says Harry. “Like, maybe in a few minutes.”

Nick might blush a little at the implication in his eyes that a few minutes would be long enough to do a lot of things besides eat lunch.  
“Any idea where the toilet is?” Nick asks him, meeting Harry’s smug smile.

“Oh my _god_ ,” says Louis loudly. “You’re not even trying. Go.”

Ben chuckles, and Nick shrugs apologetically. Harry just grins at him, looking like he might kiss Nick right there. But there are other people in the room, not just the ones they know well. “I would be happy to show you where the toilet is, Nick,” says Harry, and Nick follows him in flustered silence.

They kiss against the back of the door, Nick’s hand on Harry’s waist holding him in place as he parts Harry’s lips with his tongue. He gets lost in it, just the way he has all week, like the world can grind to a halt outside and he’ll keep snogging Harry Styles. It’s dangerous, being this happy and knowing it’s going to end. 

“I’ve never been fucked in a toilet,” Harry says, as Nick palms at his arse, pulling him closer.

“There are reasons for that,” Nick replies. He’d gone to his knees for Harry’s cock in any number of club loos back in London, and Harry’s always been generous about returning the favor. But fucking is more complicated.

Harry makes a plaintive little noise. “You could though. Make me feel you all afternoon. Like it when I can feel you.” Nick’s dick twitches, and he knows Harry can tell, the way they’re pressed tight into each other.

“Later,” he says. “Later in your enormous bed, I will prop you up on decorative pillows and give you a proper plowing.” He feels ridiculous saying it, but Harry’s eyelashes flutter, and his hips hitch up, and Nick likes that so much. He covers Harry’s mouth with his.

“Alright.” Harry ruts clumsily into him, and Nick takes a firmer grip on his bum, gathering him in. Harry breaks from kissing him again to gasp into the side of Nick’s neck. “I can still feel it a bit,” he says. “From last night. It was amazing.”

Nick goes breathless and flushed at just the memory. He’s never had as much sex in his life as he’s having this week, but even so, Harry riding his dick for over an hour, sliding off when either of them got too close and then sinking right down deep again, is pretty much a peak experience. Harry had been shaky and wrung out afterwards, asleep in Nick’s arms five minutes later. “Amazing,” Nick repeats. He reaches for Harry’s flies, conscious of the way his breathing’s changing, how close he must be. “Can I help you out here, love?” he asks. “It’d be a shame to have to rehearse in wet pants.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees dreamily, and he cants his hips up as Nick sinks carefully to his knees on the hard tile.

Nick gets his mouth round the slick pink head of Harry’s dick, but he barely has a chance to do more than lick a little along the shaft before Harry makes a frustrated noise and starts to come, shaking and clawing at Nick’s shoulder. “Sorry,” he says, flopping his head back against the door as the last twitch of orgasm goes through him, and Nick pulls off to wipe a hand across his mouth. “Sorry, I just got so…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Nick tells him, sitting back on his heels and palming at his own cock through his jeans. Asking a singer to suck him off before he returns to rehearsal seems like a bad idea, but he absolutely cannot go back out to the rest of the lads with a hard-on. He stands slowly, resigning himself to a hasty wank over the toilet bowl, but Harry stops his hand on the zip of his jeans.

“I won’t, like, do it deep,” Harry says, and Nick shivers right down to his toes, watching him bargain with himself for the chance to give a blowjob.

He’s true to his word, sucking wetly at the head of Nick’s cock and using his hand on the rest, and Nick watches him in desperate fascination, the way Harry’s holding himself back. He strokes the tip of his tongue over Nick’s slit and looks up to meet Nick’s eyes. His cheeks are hollowed, and Nick wants to grab at his hair, but it’s already too blatant what they’ve been doing locked in the toilet. Nick settles for stroking the slope of his cheekbone, Harry closing his eyes as he tightens his hand around the base of Nick’s cock.

It doesn’t take long, and Harry swallows thick spurts of Nick’s come as Nick tries to get his breath back. “This is going to look bad, isn’t it?” Harry says, leaning into Nick’s thigh.

“It’s not going to look like we were doing anything else,” Nick admits. “Do you mind? Want to run a few sprints along the corridor and pretend that’s what’s got you all pink of cheek?”

Harry shakes his head, jostling Nick’s hand as he tucks himself back into his jeans. “They’ll know anyway. They’re not stupid.”

Nick strokes his hair gently when Harry makes no move to get up. “Are you sure about that, love? I’ve interviewed you lot.”

Harry laughs and ducks his head. “I reckon they’re not stupid about this.”

Nick wonders again what Harry’s told them, what they know, but he just nods. “So, are you ready to go back out and face them?” He strokes Harry’s hair and lets Harry nuzzle into his thigh a bit more. “You’ll have to stand up, I’m afraid.”

“Hey. I’m getting there,” says Harry petulantly. He gets to his feet slowly, and Nick can’t stop staring at his pink, swollen mouth, the most obvious evidence of what they’ve just done. He touches Harry’s lower lip with his thumb and immediately wants to kiss him again. It doesn’t help that Harry shuts his eyes and tilts his chin like he wants that too.

“I can never tell what the rest of your boys think of me, but I’m sure making it clear that I let you blow me won’t help any.”

“It won’t hurt any either. They like you fine, and they know that we… haven’t always been in a blowjobs at rehearsal place. Besides, you should see Liam and Sophia sometimes, they can barely keep their hands off each other.”

Nick kisses the corner of his mouth in place of any kind of counterargument. When they get back to the studio, everyone is sat in folding chairs with plates of food, and Nick avoids eye contact just in case. He refuses to be afraid of Harry’s band, but he doesn’t think he’s ever had as much reason to worry about what they think as he does now. For all that this week is an oasis separate from his real life, he’d like to try and hang on to Harry a bit this time, instead of letting him float away. He wanders over to the table where the catering’s set up and looks at the spread. There’s a large leafy bowl of salad, mostly untouched, and a collection of mostly empty fast food bags. Nick has just unearthed a bit of available KFC when Liam walks up next to him. “Sorry if we had first go on the good stuff. Although I dunno, are you on a health thing with our Mr Styles?”

“No one should be healthy all the time,” Nick says, waving a chicken wing.

Liam grins, that big crinkly one that takes him from young Beckham to primary school nerd in naught-point-eight seconds. “Have you had an In-n-Out while you’ve been here? It’s the best.”

Nick blinks innocently. He’s been to LA before, and heard the same thing every time. But there’s no reason not to tease. “Is that some sort of euphemism? Little cheeky In-n-Out on your holiday?”

Liam flushes a bit, but his grin doesn’t collapse. “I wouldn’t want to speculate about that, mate. But the burger place is fantastic.”

“Even Harry can’t say no to that then.”

Harry wanders up next to them, critically eyeing the salad like a caricature of himself. “I don’t say no to much,” Harry agrees without context. His mouth is still red and puffy from sucking Nick’s cock, and Nick doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“We were talking about burgers, Harold,” says Nick.

“Or euphemisms, if you like,” adds Liam. “That’s the word, right?”

“Yeah,” replies Harry, “that’s the word for when someone says burgers and means sex.” He gives Nick a long up and down look.

“Right,” says Liam, “I’ll just not stand between you any more.” He takes two steady steps backwards, looking round for a destination.

“Nothing can stand between us, Liam,” Harry says, still looking at Nick.

“Idiot,” says Nick fondly. He’s all fluttery though, and he can feel his smile spreading wider and wider as Harry doesn’t look away.

Louis ducks around Nick’s other side to pick up a napkin, Niall behind him reaching for a packet of crisps. “Mating ritual or staring contest, do you reckon?” Louis asks Niall.

“I’m going to win either way,” says Harry, and his dimples pop irresistibly.

He’s practically blinding. Nick blinks and looks away before his face does anything more embarrassing. “I’m rubbish at staring contests.”

Niall laughs. “You should never let him win anything, Grimmy. Give an inch and he’ll take a mile, this one.” 

“He’ll kick your arse at golf too,” says Louis, elbowing at Niall. Nick waits for a punchline at his expense, but Louis’s being downright pleasant just now. Nick wonders if Louis ever even thought they had beef or if it’s just been his insane fanbase invading Nick’s twitter replies all this time. The difference between social media and real life is stark when it comes to One Direction.

“I bet Grimmy knows how good Harry is with balls,” says Niall.

“Rude,” says Harry loftily. He’s scooping salad onto his plate and doesn’t even turn.

Niall turns his grin on Nick, and Nick can’t help smiling back. Ultimately Nick’s a part of Harry’s life that has nothing to do with the rest of the band, and they don’t need to be his friends, but if Niall wants to make the effort, Nick will meet him halfway.

“Are you going to stay the rest of the afternoon?” Harry asks. “Do you have stuff to do?”

“I’m on holiday, pet. I can do what I like.” He’s got plenty of other people to see, but the pull of Harry’s solemn little face is strong.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’ll hang around a bit longer. I reckon Niall’s got some moves I haven’t seen yet.”

Harry reaches out to squeeze Nick’s hand, just for a second, and that’s all the welcome Nick needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr [here](http://realmenwearpuppypants.tumblr.com/). <3


End file.
